


Chinese Whispers

by faithinthepoor



Series: Murder in Suburbia [5]
Category: Murder in Suburbia (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 04:12:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/630248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithinthepoor/pseuds/faithinthepoor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set post season two</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chinese Whispers

**Author's Note:**

> In my series this follows [Loosely Translated](http://archiveofourown.org/works/630087), [Signals and Codes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/630091), [Mixed Messages](http://archiveofourown.org/works/630106) and [Speaking in Tongues](http://archiveofourown.org/works/630137)

The steering wheel seems to have become welded to her hands and while she realises that having it as a permanent attachment will limit her functioning, in her current state she is simply content to grip it more tightly. For some reason she can’t help wondering if she is literally experiencing white knuckle terror but she is not about to remove her gloves or, more importantly, relinquish her death grip on the steering wheel in order to find out. She tries to tell herself that she has been trained to deal with terrifying situations and that she has looked at horrific carnage with no consequence other than the occasional nightmare but no amount of deep breathing or guided imagery seems to change the fact that her heart is doing its best to jackhammer its way out of her chest cavity.

The car door opens and Scribbs, apparently no longer content with tapping on the window whilst making exasperated faces, reclaims the passenger seat. “How long do you think it is going to take for you to decide to come in?”

“That’s not even an option now, I am deliberating between turning around and going home or living in the car.”

Scribbs issues an overly dramatic sigh, “Why did you say you’d come if you didn’t want to do this?”

“I really don’t know.” She’s fairly certain that it had something to do with the pouting and the puppy dog eyes that Scribbs had been yielding like a weapons expert but she is not about to let Scribbs know just how much power she has over her.

“I don’t understand what you are so worried about, you’ve met them before.”

“Yes but that was _before_ ,” Ash manages to elongate the word by several syllables.

Scribbs doesn’t look at all fazed, in fact she is positively beaming, “You really think that they will be able to tell just by looking at us?”

“They might,” her tone is curt but it doesn’t seem to dampen Scribbs’ spirits.

“But you manage to go to work everyday, aren’t you worried that they’ll be able to tell just by looking at us?”

“Constantly.”

Scribbs reaches over and attempts to pry a hand from the wheel, she manages to dislodge one finger but Ash snaps it back into position the moment that Scribbs moves her attention to the next finger. The blonde shakes her head and changes tactic, running her hand up and down Ash’s arm instead, “You have alarmingly strong fingers.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment and also where the hell was this hand strength last night when you made me risk a wrist fracture by getting me to open that jar?”

“I legitimately couldn’t do it.”

“I very much doubt that,” Scribbs huffs

“See I told you that I shouldn’t have come, we are arguing already.”

“Oh Ash this is not arguing, this is me wondering what the hell my mother is thinking.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s been watching us from the window ever since we arrived.”

“Oh my god,” the thought of having breached social etiquette causes her hands to fly to her chest and Scribbs takes the opportunity to grab them before they resume their position on the steering wheel. “Scribbs, let go of my hands, we are being watched.”

Scribbs slides closer, “If you don’t get it together soon I will kiss you.”

“Scribbs!”

The blonde is clearly milking the moment for all that it is worth but Ash wonders if there is a hint of real concern in her dejected tone, “I didn’t realise that kissing me was something that you found so repulsive.”

“It’s not,” she attempts to offer reassurance, “and if I could I would kiss you now and prove it to you.”

“But of course you can’t do that because I’m not good enough to be anything other than your dirty little secret.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not, it’s true.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“I do?”

“I love you. I’m here aren’t I?”

“I wouldn’t be using that as your evidence, not when you can’t even get out of the car.”

“I’m trying,” and the sad thing is, she really is making an effort and even though Scribbs is being incredibly patient, by Scribbs’ standards, it frightens her that her neuroses will eventually drive Scribbs away, the way they have everyone that she has ever cared about.

“I know,” Scribbs squeezes both of her hands, “and I appreciate it. This is my fault, I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

She is sure that somewhere in Scribbs’ words is the implication that Scribbs doesn’t think she could handle the situation. “I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t want to be here.”

A hearty laugh wracks through Scribbs body, “Ash, exactly how would you be behaving if you didn’t want to be here?”

“I don’t want to be here, here but I want to be with you.”

“If I have to, I’ll go in without you.”

“I realise that that would be the case.”

“But I won’t stay without you.”

“You won’t?”

“Of course not, why do you think I invited you? I don’t want to be apart from you for two whole days.”

“You would survive.”

“I’m not willing to put that assumption to the test.”

“If we went home how would you explain that to your parents?”

“I’d tell my father that I love him and that I hope he has a very nice birthday but that I won’t be able to visit them for a while, at least not until the novelty of having sex with my new girlfriend wears off.”

There is a very real chance that that is exactly what Scribbs would say, “So either I come in and risk people wondering if there is something going on between us or I go home and have you confirm it?”

“Those are pretty much you options Detective Inspector.”

“Sometimes I really hate you.”

“So are we getting out of the car now?”

“Yes, yes.” Ash exits the vehicle and then rounds it to join Scribbs who is gathering the luggage that she abandoned on the footpath when she returned to the car.

Scribbs hands her a bag, “Now that you are out of the car, I should probably warn you that my sister has given up on trying to set me up with men.”

She tries to suppress the smile dancing at the corners of her mouth, “That’s not so much a warning as it is a relief.”

“Apparently I am a lost cause and no-one is ever going to want me.”

“That’s just terrible.”

“Isn’t it?” Scribbs isn’t bothering to suppress her own smile, “So anyway she has a new project now.”

“She does?” Ash replies absently.

“Yes, she has decided to find a partner for you.” Ash stops in her tracks and Scribbs steps back to stand beside her, “I thought that might get your attention.”

“It didn’t occur to you to tell your sister that this is not something that I would be interested in?”

“What was I meant to say, ‘If you ask her she’ll deny it but she’s definitely seeing someone and I think she’s happy’?”

“I AM happy,” she decrees a little more forcefully than she intended.

“Good to know. Anyway she has prepared a list of eligible bachelors and evidently there will be a few at the party tomorrow. I think there is some sort of secret head movement that she is going to do when she introduces you to them.”

This weekend may very well kill her, “I like how you waited until now to tell me this.”

“I’m not as stupid as you think I am.” She was about to correct Scribbs and inform her that, on the contrary, she is apparently a diabolical genius but Scribbs doesn’t need the reassurance as she is busy all but skipping her way to the house.

The door is flung open as they approach and Scribbs’ mother barrels through it to embrace them both in a bear hug. “Jesus mum you must have set a new land speed record getting here, I could have sworn that you were upstairs a second ago.”

“I was starting to worry about the two of you, I was about to send Jeremy out to get you, wasn’t I Jeremy?” A grunting noise seems to issue from the house. “Jeremy come and say hello to your sister.”

“Hello Squeaky,” comes the shout.

“Squeaky?” Ash asks with more bemusement than is probably appropriate.

“Don’t ask,” Scribbs mutters

“He’s so very rude and yet still more polite than you were at his age, where did I go wrong with the three of you?”

Out of the corner of her eye Ash can see the blush rising on Scribbs’ cheeks. “Thank you very much for letting me stay Mrs Scribbins.”

“It’s Gloria dear and you know that you are welcome anytime. Besides you look like you could do with some looking after, you are very thin Kate.”

“Mum,” Scribbs whines, she seems to have reverted to a teenager in the presence of her mother and Ash would be willing to bet money that there was an eye roll that accompanied that whine.

“What? Am I not allowed to make an observation?”

“Gloria leave the girls alone and let them get settled.” The house seems to have multiple personalty disorder and is now speaking with another voice.

“I was just saying hello Jim,” the words aren’t aimed at them but she still bellows in Ash and Scribbs’ direction, she does soften her tone before adding, “I’ve made up your rooms, Kate you are in Emma’s old room. Emma you are sharing with the girls.”

“But Mum they are like little walking alarm clocks set for ungodly hours.”

“I know dear,” she replies and as if on cue two little energetic alarm clocks come hurtling down the corridor and come to an abrupt stop as they push past their grandmother and catch site of Ash.

Scribbs crouches down and opens her arms and the girls stampede into her embrace. “Hello my monsters.” Scribbs simple statement is met with a high speed stereo babble that seems to involve swings and bandaids and various other things of no interest to Ash until Scribbs looks up and catches her eye. “Girls this is my friend Ash er Kate, I’d like you to say hello.”

Ash stoops a little and does her best not to be intimidating, “Hi.” Her mission wasn’t entirely successful; the smaller of the urchins moves behind her sister and the larger one seems to have become mute.

“Don’t be rude girls. Come out from behind Gemma, Emily”

Emily’s response to this command is to make a squealing noise before running back in the direction that she came from but the older one stands her ground and appears to contemplate what she should say to the stranger. Her large blue eyes suddenly flit to Scribbs who nods in encouragement and then Gemma decrees, “You have very high hair,” before copying her sisters exit, sans the squeal.

Scribbs attempts to place a comforting hand on Ash’s arm but she brushes her off, she does feel somewhat guilty about the hurt look in Scribbs’ eyes but reasons that Scribbs knew what she was getting into when she asked her to come. They gather their belongings and Scribbs leads them upstairs. Ash isn’t sure if it’s the fact that she withdrew from Scribbs attempt to reassure her earlier or if Scribbs is just excited but Scribbs basically throws her belongings into a room, pauses to gesture with her head to indicate which room has been assigned to Ash and then bounds downstairs. 

Ash busies herself with removing her clothes from her bag, hanging each item and analysing them to see if they thwarted her rigorous packing efforts and now require ironing. From the window of the room she can see Scribbs tearing around the garden with two mini-Scribbs in tow. Watching them she realises that the hight difference is really all that separates Scribbs from the girls, there really seems to be little difference in their levels of maturity, a fact that is brought into focus when Scribbs attempts a cartwheel and falls on her face. The midgets attend to a sophisticated from of first aid, placing kissing and bandaids on every part of Scribbs skin that they can access and Scribbs remains on the ground until her father orders her inside.

She is still looking out the window when Scribbs returns, hobbling across the room and wrapping her arms around Ash’s waist. She doesn’t bother to remove Scribbs arms, they fall of their own accord in response to Ash’s words, “I don’t want kids.”

“Ok, it might have been polite to say start with ‘Are you alright Scribbs?’ but we’ll do it your way.”

“I’m serious.”

“Far, far too often.”

“I am very funny when it’s appropriate.”

“Of course you are but I gather this isn’t meant to be amusing.”

“You were good with them, they seem happy with you, I thought it’s something that you should know.”

“Ash we’ve been together for four weeks.”

“Three and half,”

“Three weeks, five days, I’m rounding to four.”

Ash softens her stance a little, “You’re counting.”

“Not deliberately, it just seems to be something that I am aware of.”

“Well I am aware of the fact that I don’t want kids and I am thinking that you kind of do.”

“It’s not a deal breaker Ash.”

“But you must have thought about this.”

“I’ve thought about lots of things over the years but I’m not 16 years old anymore I realise that relationships come with compromise.”

“I’m a compromise?”

“Yes, I’ve forced myself to settle for tall, dark and gorgeous.”

The corner of her mouth twitches in response, “I can see how that would have been a struggle.”

“And I’m also having to make do with intelligent, witty and charming.”

“How do you continue to go on each day?”

“It’s quite the chore.”

“I can see how it would be but little Scribbses would be cute and I don’t want to be the one to stand in your way.”

“Little Scribbses would be unbelievably cute, so would little Ashes but that’s not important.”

“Yes it is, we’re not getting any younger,” Scribbs goes to interrupt but Ash holds her hands up, “let me finish. I am not suddenly going to see children as anything other than disease vectors and creatures prone to so many accidents that it’s impossible to effectively childproof your house.” She stops at that point hoping that she’s made her point clear, Scribbs doesn’t need to hear all the technicolour details about how she fears sticky fingers and crayoned walls and not being able to own anything nice until the sprog is about twenty or so. 

“And I’m not asking you to change your mind, so can we table this meltdown until we see if we can still stand one another in few months.”

“I’m just saying that it’s obvious that your family is important to you.”

“They’re ok, sometimes I want to lock them in a room and remove the oxygen but as far as families go, they will do.”

“This is still you’re bedroom.”

“Well at the moment it’s apparently your bedroom but I’d be more than willing to share,” Scribbs attempts to ensure that her intention was clear by flashing a lascivious grin.

“Don’t come any closer.”

“What makes you think I was planning to?” Ash doesn’t bother to answer, she just raises her eyebrow. “Fine but you don’t need to be so worried, no-one is watching.”

“Your family don’t strike me as the type that has a knocking policy.”

“I’ll have you know that we have a very strict knocking policy.”

“As in no knocking is necessary?”

“Well yeah,” Scribbs replies sheepishly.

“Quel surprise.”

“And I suppose your family habitually knock and the knocking is all discrete and polite.”

“Naturally.”

“And naturally you’re childhood bedroom was fit for a princess.”

“It was pretty standard stuff.”

“Maybe I could be the judge of that.”

“Unlikely.”

Scribbs’ face falls, “You don’t want me at your parents’ place.”

“I am going to need some heavy duty tranquilisers just to contemplate that issue but I meant that it doesn’t exist anymore, it fell victim to my parents redecorating spree, I think it is currently my mother’s Pilates room.”

“Your mother needs a whole room for that?”

“Apparently.”

“I thought they’d keep your room as a shrine to your perfection.”

“It seems you’re the one with the shrine.”

“This isn’t a shrine, this is my parents’ lack of faith in me. I think they are still shocked that I am surviving out there in the world and are keeping the room so that when I ultimately fail and come crawling back, it will be there for me.”

“And when that happens they think you want to live in a teenager’s bedroom?”

“They aren’t the greatest planners my parents.”

“I see. Your room isn’t want I imagined you know?”

“You’ve thought about my bedroom?”

“I think about your bedroom a lot,” it really shouldn’t please her so much to see Scribbs grin in response, “but as for _this_ bedroom, it comes under the umbrella of me spending time trying to figure out what makes you, well, you.”

“How does it differ from your thoughts?”

“I pictured trophies and photos, I thought you might own at least one book and I didn’t imagine so much black or so many posters of The Sex Pistols and The Clash.”

Scribbs shrugs, “It was a rebellious phase.”

“Scribbs, there is a Rick Astley poster in the wardrobe.”

“It was a kinda tame rebellion?” Ash laughs. “So I guess, before your room became a causality to your mothers need to tone, your walls had pictures of Mozart and Proust.” She is stunned at Scribbs choice of authors and clearly doesn’t hide it well. “What? You’re shocked that I’ve heard of Proust aren’t you?”

“A little.”

“I’ll have you know that there was a whole Gilmore Girls episode about one of his books.”

“Scribbs, don’t cite your source material, it decreases your allure.”

“Whatever, so come on, was it Handal, Nietzsche?”

Ash is not going to open the Pandora’s box that will tell her what aspect of pop-culture Scribbs dragged Nietzche out of, “I didn’t have posters.”

“None?”

“I tried to put up a Flock of Seagulls poster once. Scribbs stop laughing. Anyway I got in trouble for marking the wallpaper and never tried again.”

“Baby, did they stifle you?” Scribbs actually seems sincere but she swears that for some reason she can still hear giggling and possibly shushing and she casts a wary eye at the door. “The door isn’t possessed Ash. Gemily what are you two doing?”

“Gemily?”

“It saves time,” Scribbs replies matter-of-factly, as though removing two syllables is obvious the key to effective time management. 

The door slowly opens and two golden heads emerge, eying Ash suspiciously. The older one seems to do the speaking for the pair, “Grandma says you to come downstairs cause the lady is doing the dinner box.” The child looks kind of jealous and excited at the same time.

“You are going to love this.”

“I somehow doubt it.”

Scribbs catches her hand and squeezes it quickly, “Please try to have fun, for me?”

She nods and then follows Scribbs out the door. The dinner box turns out to involve Ash needing to pick a takeaway menu from a brightly coloured box overflowing with them while Mrs Scribbins declares that she can’t possibly cook for a guest. She does manage to survive the evening but she has to admit that she is pleased that Gloria ushers them to bed early, telling them that they need to get rested for the party tomorrow. She lies awake for some time telling herself that she is big and brave and that she can get through one more day.

Sleep seemed like it was going to be elusive but it evidently caught her because the next thing she knows she wakes to find Scribbs perched on the edge of her bed with a pillow in her lap. “Are we having a sleepover?”

“Something like that,” Scribbs replies as she tosses the pillow to the head of the bed and stretches out alongside Ash.

“How long have you been there?”

“A while.”

“You were watching me sleep?”

“Sort of.”

“You don’t think that’s creepy?”

“I was thinking that I didn’t want to wake you but for future reference it’s good to know that you’d prefer that I did. I was also thinking about how much I like it when your hair is down.” Scribbs leans over to kiss her.

“Scribbs don’t.”

“I’ve told you Ash, I don’t care about the morning breath rule.”

“You don’t care about any of the rules.”

“I care, I just don’t think I necessarily need to follow them.”

“You would think that you, of all people, would want to follow them.”

“I don’t have to, I know you love me.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“You don’t yell when I diagonal sleep and you let me snuggle and breathe in your general direction, you definitely love me.”

She reaches over and pushes Scribbs’ hair out of her eyes, “I guess it’s possible that you might be right.”

“I know I am,” Scribbs grabs her hand and places a kiss on her wrist, Ash’s eyes flutter closed but then open abruptly as she realises that Scribbs is kissing her way up her arm.

“Scribbs stop.”

“It’s okay, we just need to be quiet.”

“We are not having sex in your parents’ house.”

“Well, not yet.”

“Let me rephrase that, we are not going to have sex in your parents’ house.”

“But look we are all alone is this tiny bed, what else are we going to do?”

“Scribbs you need to control yourself.”

“We’re really not going to have sex?” Scribbs actually looks distressed.

“It won’t kill you.”

“It might.”

“You can go a day without having sex.”

“We haven’t.”

“You think that if I don’t sleep with you tonight that it will somehow be the beginning of the end of our relationship?” incredulous doesn’t even begin to describe Ash’s tone.

“Maybe,” Scribbs looks away.

“Oh my God, you’re serious. Don’t be so daft.”

Scribbs weaves her hand into Ash’s hair. “I’m not the girl that people stay with long term, mostly I’m okay about that but it’s why I wanted you to come, if we don’t make it, I wanted us to have had a weekend away together.”

“I plan on having more of those, I just don’t plan on having sex at your parents’ house.”

“If I don’t get to have sex with you, what exactly do I get?”

“You get me, you have me.”

“Not that anyone would know.”

“Scribbs you’ve dated married men, this can’t be the first time that you’ve been in a relationship that was a secret.”

“It’s the first time I’ve been in one that’s a secret for no good reason.”

“Scribbs, if people knew, they’d take you away from me.”

“So it’s more important to you that I am your partner than your girlfriend?”

“Hey I’m not the one who’s worried this won’t last. Do you want to be reassigned?”

“No but I want to feel like you want to be with me.”

“I do!”

“Then why do I get the feeling that I am not what you want.”

“I had this list of everything that I wanted in a prospective partner and I always thought if I found someone who checked enough of the boxes, they’d be the one that I chose and hopefully I would grow to love them.”

“And I don’t check enough of the boxes?”

“You don’t check hardly any of the boxes.”

“Oh,” Scribbs does her best to roll away in the limited confines of the bed.

She awkwardly throws an arm over Scribbs and kisses her neck, “But the point is, I didn’t want the box checkers, Sullivan was a big box checker but I didn’t want him.”

“You certainly tried.”

“That was the plan, to make myself love him but it didn’t work. It couldn’t, because I’m in love with you.”

“Even though my boxes are empty?”

“As much as it pains me, yes. I do want people to know about us, it will just have to wait.”

“What, until you retire?”

“There are other ways that we might get separated.”

“Ok so barring reassignment I will be waiting until your retirement.”

“Well that or promotion, demotion, secondment, transfer, the options are endless.”

“But if we don’t make it that long then no-one will ever know?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“On whether you would still want to work for me if we broke up.”

“I don’t like to think about that.”

“You don’t have to, we are going to grow old together.”

“We are?” Scribbs sounds a little awestruck.

“We have to now, we can’t let that booking you made at Birch Grove go to waste.”

“That would be remiss,” Scribbs rolls back over with some effort and places her body on Ash’s.

“You have to go.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I’m already worried what your parents think about me coming for the weekend.”

“You think they think we’re sleeping together?” Ash nods, prompting Scribbs to continue, “Don’t worry, they don’t think that.”

“They don’t?”

“No, they know we’re sleeping together.”

“You told them,” she hates how much the thought horrifies her.

“I didn’t have to, I’ve never brought anyone home that I wasn’t shagging.”

“You could have mentioned this to me earlier.”

“Ahhhh, no I couldn’t, you wouldn’t have come,” Scribbs’ voice is so laden with sarcasm that the bed is in danger of collapsing under the weight.

“What must they think of me?”

“They think you’re a very lucky girl who bagged their fabulous daughter.”

“Once again, I’m being serious here Scribbs.”

“As am I, they obviously approve, they let you have this room.”

“Wouldn’t they have put us in the same room if they approved?”

“We’re not married, this is good as you’ll get. If they didn’t approve, Mum would have made you sleep in a foldout bed in front of her room so that she could monitor your movements all night.”

“She has done this to your suitors before?”

“Suitors,” Scribbs giggles, “it must kill you that time constraints prevent you from using your best calligraphy to write up reports.”

“It is a little bothersome but not as bothersome as the fact that your mother has put your, your,” she stumbles over the word choice she doesn’t want to seem uptight and she doesn’t want to think about Scribbs possibly having brought other woman home, “ah boyfriends out in the hallway.”

Scribbs is unusually preceptive and places a quick but reassuring kiss on Ash’s lips, “Don’t worry, you are the only girl I’ve ever brought home, you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to show off.” It’s not exactly a sonnet but somehow it works for Ash and she does feel more settled. “But yeah several guys got the hallway treatment.”

“Did any of the relationships survive that?”

“Not really but then even the ones that didn’t get hallwayed didn’t last long after a visit home.”

“So why did you bring me if that is the fate of those that proceeded me?”

“You handle suspects, you handle me, I thought you’d be able to handle them.”

“They take some getting used to. I wasn’t going to mention it but your brother tried to hit on me tonight.”

“Ash he’s 19 years old, he’d pretty much hit on a cactus.”

“Thanks for the belief in my appeal.”

“You are very appealing,” Scribbs states as she creeps her hands under Ash’s pyjama top, “but in the interest of full disclosure I should tell you that he made a bet that he could pull you.”

“You used me as bait?”

“Baby you made me £10 off my tight arse brother that’s like gold.”

“How do you think he’ll cope when he finds out that he tried to get it on with his sister’s girlfriend?”

“Oh he already knows that.”

“That is disturbing on so many levels. So your whole family just assumes we are sleeping together?”

“They happen to be very accurate assumers.”

“Then why is your sister finding me eligible bachelors?”

“She’s doubts your commitment.”

“Are they all going to try and test my fidelity?”

“They are just looking out for me, it’s what they do.”

“Are they going to say anything to the other party guests?”

“No, they don’t want to damage my career any more than you do.”

“It’s nice to know that we have that in common.”

“Now, given that you know that they know, can I get me some sex?”

“You can go back to your room because you mother made it very clear that she was going to be in early to draw the curtains.”

“That was only to make sure that you had me out of the room on time so you could keep up your little ‘just friends’ charade.”

“I am not risking having your mother walk in on us, if that happens I will never be able to have sex with you again.”

Scribbs is up and out of bed as though she has been launched from a catapult, “Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

If only she had have known that it was that easy, she’ll have to remember that particular stick and carrot approach for future Scribbs induced predicaments, “I will see you at breakfast.”

She is already up and dressed by the time Gloria enters to draw the curtains. Mrs Scribbins still makes the effort to cross the room and open the window, as though she needs to justify her intrusion. Ash doesn’t fail to notice that Gloria seems disappointed that Ash is alone in the room. “Breakfast is ready dear, it’s nothing fancy but we do try to have it as a family,” there is a definite emphasis placed on that last word.

The sound of the blender really should have been an early warning sign but she really didn’t think anything of it while she was descending the stairs. She has no idea how she is meant to deal with the horror before her or that fact that Jeremy hands her glass to her with a suggestive wink. She looks down at the explosion of colour that masquerades as food in the Scribbs household and tries to ignore the wave of nausea that the sight of it induces. Scribbs takes a break from sipping on her own drink to look at Ash with concern. She approaches Scribbs and deliberately takes her hand, “Scribbs, honey, I will do many things for you but the Sugar Puff drink is not a life choice that I am prepared to make.”

She’s not sure if it’s the hand holding or the ‘honey’ but something meets with Gloria’s approval, “If you like, Kate, you could have some toast.”

Ash pulls Scribbs closer and whispers in her ear, “Do think, if I kissed you, I could get some eggs to go with it?”

Scribbs giggles and raises her eyebrow in challenge, “I guess there is only one way to find out.” Whatever the result, Ash is definitely up to the challenge.


End file.
